When Basic Skills Atrophy

Is it just me or is everybody losing some of the abilities we formerly took for granted?

I have accepted the fact that no matter how many Thank You notes I write, my handwriting has gone to shit. I spend too much time tapping away at a keyboard and not enough time wielding the mighty pen. Since I'm conscious of the deterioration, I write more slowly if anyone other than me is expected to read it.

I no longer have phone numbers memorized. Before the memory function was a standard feature in phones, you had to actually REMEMBER the number or fumble through an address book. [Digression: My Grammy had one of those AWESOME telephone lists where you slid the pointer down to the appropriate letter and then pushed the button to magically reveal the right page. Looked like this:


I'm not sure if I loved this because it reminded me of the game Mystery Date (where you turned the door knob to reveal a boy!), but it was one of my favorite things to play with at Grammy's house.] With cell phones and memory dial, I can barely remember my VoIP number. That's got to be contributing to brain cell death.

Final and most damning evidence? On Sunday, I was UNABLE to transport ice cube trays to the freezer without sloshing half the contents on the floor. I remember using ice cube trays. In fact, I used them well after most of my friends had moved to automatic ice-makers. So, it has probably only been about six years since I last traversed the 2 feet between sink and freezer. I had even pre-opened the freezer door and cleared a shelf, but to no avail. So there I was with coffee splattered all over the floor, freezer door and front of the refrigerator. Because I only went to the dollar store to buy ice cube trays so I could make espresso cubes for my iced americanos.

Tell all your single friends, I used to have mad skillz.

XO, JamieSmitten

Tasty!

Salt and Vinegar potato chips with sour cherry gels. Texture isn't great, but it's an interesting flavor combination.


And no, I haven't been drinking.



Yet.



Now what wine will pair well with..........





Tell all your single friends, I'm not eating junk food, I'm creating a flavor sensation.




XO, JamieSmitten

Help! She's Making Me Match!

It is just plain weird. I'm a Scorpio. I'm supposed to be the one in control. But that isn't the way it works in my relationships. Well maybe with men, but certainly not with my girl friends. I'm not complaining -- if it weren't for my forceful female friends, I'd languish at home with Boom and reruns of House.

So one of my determined female friends has just informed me that I will be having a profile on Match.com and I will be expected to date men, not just mock their spelling and grammar from the safe harbor of the sofa. I tried to explain that I've done Match.com. Heck -- I've done eHarmony, SantaMatch, Inkdate, Plentyoffish, and AnimalAttraction. I regularly scan GreenSingles looking for that perfect 6'4" animal loving well-read vegetarian with broad shoulders who lives on the west coast and only needs me to complete the picture. I try.

But I'm not trying hard enough is the feedback from DFF. She also knows me well enough that she has already said she will help write the ad, pay the money, and post the darn thing. Her enthusiasm is almost invigorating. Until I remember the actual dates I had from my previous Match.com foray.

Date #1: Lunch date at a local hangout. His profile was positively erudite and I was enthralled. When I found out a co-worker was also emailing him, I quickly suggested lunch and he said yes. I probably wore a little too much lipstick, but damn it, I was excited. He was tall and good-looking in that imperfectly charming way that I like (see previous post) and he was interesting. We didn't lack topics and the lunch ended only when we both had other places we had to be. Then came the email two days later. "I had a nice time, even though we didn't feel a connection." What?! I fired off a way harsh response that I hadn't realized I was auditioning for soulmate, etc. He responded tersely that clearly, I was a lunatic and thank goodness we hadn't planned another date. Miffed. For quite some time, I was. I ran into him a year later while walking Boom and he literally took two steps back and said, "Oh. That's a really big dog," with a hint of fear in his eye. Couldn't handle either of us, so it would seem.

Date #2: Drinks at a local bar. His profile was a little spare, but I was able to glean doctor and well traveled. That should do nicely, I thought at the time. Of course, a veterinarian would have been better, but I'm open, right? No immediate physical attraction, but he wasn't bad looking, just a little too buttoned down. We talked easily and found out that we both had divorced parents, dads with wanderlust who took up with inappropriate women, and mothers who lived in Florida. Things took a turn for the worse when he bemoaned the lack of chess partners in Richmond. "There's nobody at my level." It soon became clear that he was snobby. He was also persistent and insisted on walking me home, foiling my perfect plan of having an easy escape route. Fortunately, Neighbor John (slayer of mice and a charming gay man) arrived home as I was holding the line on the front porch so Stuffy McChessSnob didn't get any ideas. I called out to him in my most flirtatious manner that he certainly had been out late and he had some explaining to do. He approached warily, but soon read the situation and stayed chatting with me until S McCS took the hint and beat feet.

I'll spare you my non-Match.com blind date story -- although the part where he asks to be dropped off on the side of the road is pretty funny. Suffice to say, I'm not much of a dater.

But if DFF says I should be, well maybe she's right.

So I'm going to do it. I'm going to post a profile. Sometime soon. Really. If you have any suggestions on how to sell the Smitten, please leave them in the Comments section.

Tell all your single friends, if you know a 6'4" veterinarian with broad shoulders and a wicked sense of humor, he's needed at Match.com STAT!

XO, JamieSmitten

Hot Like Fire

In no particular order. Because I feel the need for some hotness.

I need to go to bed -- because this guy almost made the list:

Tell all your single friends, Smitten needs a man.

XO, JamieSmitten

Not Really Any Different

My adorable four year old niece came to town a few weeks ago for lunch and a trip to the children's museum. Lunch went well -- as I had cleverly picked a place with PB&J on white bread (fancy!)and applesauce as a side dish -- but I was not prepared for the experience that is a children's museum.


[Note: I LOVED going to the Toronto Science Museum when I was a kid and have enjoyed the science museum in Richmond as well. How was I to know a children's museum would be so different?]


Well let me just tell you, children's museums are no different than the dog park. My evidence? Read on:

• Pack mentality rules. If one dog races over to the water bowl, 11 others follow. If one child picks up a bucket to collect plastic "apples" pneumatically shooting out of tubes, every other child will go to the same side of the four sided apple tree and fight over the one apple that came out on that side. And what kind of life skill is apple picking anyway? Seriously, that would not be a good career bet in Richmond.


• Fancy bows in the hair mean trouble. The sissy dogs with bows are always the ones that pick a fight and then run yelping back under their owner's feet when a dog even barks at them. Similarly, the little princesses with bows in their hair attempt to control all in their immediate domain. In the cafeteria section, one little despoTina commandeered every piece of fake cake and plastic sundae and screamed bloody murder when another child came near. Yes, I took a plastic sundae when she looked the other way. Sue me.


• Repetitive actions are more fun if you are under 7 years of age. Older dogs will chase the ball a few times, but it takes a young dog to retrieve for hours. This children's museum has a pretend grocery store and checkout line. I watched in ever growing horror as the children picked boxes off the shelf, stood in line, and watched passively as another child rang up their purchases. There wasn't even play money. It was like a Stepford mini-mart.


• Look where you walk. Pretty standard rule at the dog park considering the varied manner of canine output. But would you expect it at the children's museum? Stickers, discarded on the museum floor, are amazingly resilient and survive the car ride home and a walk to the ice cream store before affixing themselves to the oriental rug in the foyer. There's some sand issues too and some sort of kitty-litter-like substance that covers the dinosaur bones in the excavation pit.

So, like the dog park, I recommend short visits if it will make your little one happy.

Tell all your single friends, hold out for the science museum.

XO, JamieSmitten

Oh My God I Feel Good

Now I remember why I enjoyed smoking pot.

All of a sudden I can feel the curve between my big toe and my second toe and it throbs with life. It is positively orgasmic. I've missed that feeling.

I'm a little drunk too, so let's not give all the credit to the herb.

Tell all your single friends, you DO want to go the van between sets.

XO, JamieSmitten

Ester of Wood Rosin

You've got no idea where I could possibly be going, do you? Well let's just see...


So I'm hanging at the hospital with my peeps, Manda and Mr. A, and we're shooting the shit talking about all manner of things because Manda's got some time to kill while she marshals the forces and kicks the CRAP out of the bad blood. And I'm nothing if not good for some shit shooting.


So we've covered the decline of home improvement cable shows, we've discussed some books, we've determined that the male nurse does not look like Greg Kinnear's twin, I've explained how cycling accidents in Sweden can have massive repercussions, and of course, the topic turns to ester of wood rosin.


O.K., I can't remember exactly how it came up, but I managed to find a segue to one of my favorite bits of useless knowledge.


[Digression: I read labels. I think it has a lot to do with spending a lot of time in Canada and reading the french descriptions on everything. In fact, somebody whispering "de blé entier" in my ear would make me hot. I think. Seriously, somebody can try that.]


Anyhoo, one of my favourite Canadian treats was a pop (soda for you southerners) called Tahiti Treat. Yum -- no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but tasted like a fizzy Hawaiian Punch. And Hawaiian Punch was not something my mum served. Kool-Aid occasionally, but not Hawaiian Punch.


[Again with the digression: Before you go correcting me, it was Tahiti Treat in Canada and Tahitian Treat in the US.]


One of the ingredients in Tahiti (and Tahitian) Treat is Ester of Wood Rosin. I know! How cool is that? I've never bothered to look it up, but heck, it is certainly that Little Something Extra,
right?


Well, I vowed to finally look up the properties of that magical additive because if I'm going to throw it into the conversation, I better be able to elaborate. The short answer is

Glycerol esters of resin acids of wood rosins used as food additives in beverages and chewing gum are those prepared from wood rosin that is harvested from the stumps of the longleaf pine (Pinus palustris) and purified to a beverage-grade ester gum.

The long answer had to do with studies by the World Health Organization that involved "fecal excretions by rats of unlabelled glycerol ester of wood rosin." Better off not knowing, I say, but undoubtedly, it is probably a good thing that I don't drink the stuff any more.


I'm pretty sure I've seen it in other drinks though. I'm just saying.


Tell all your single friends, some people will drink anything.

XO, JamieSmitten

Nothing Like a Cool Breeze

Just got back from walking Boom. A longer walk today because his knee finally seems to be on the mend. We meandered, we stopped to sniff other puppies, we chatted, returning home about 30 minutes after we started.

Which is when I discovered my pants were unzipped.

Sigh. I thought it felt cooler than the forecast.

Tell all your single friends, check it!


XO, JamieSmitten

This Better Not Be A Trend......

I think the universe is trying to tell me something. When I went into the bathroom on Thursday and found my brush in the bottom of the toilet, it was moderately annoying. But what can you do?

But today, when I was wrestling with the paper toilet seat cover at work (Digression: I know I shouldn't love paper toilet seat covers because of the environmental waste, but goddess help me, I do. As a kid, I thought they were the epitome of class. I now know that the epitome of class is throwing up discreetly into a cup at a party instead of making a big scene by spackling the wall, floor, and other party goers, but definitely as a kid -- paper toilet seat covers. So yes, I use them even though my environmental consciousness winces every time. But the dispenser in the first stall closest to the door [I digress further -- apparently the stall closest to the door has the least amount of germs because most women go as far into the bathroom as they can to perform their business, according to an article I read.] of the ladies room on the third floor of my office building has become cranky. Sometimes I get the full seat cover, sometimes I get only the center piece which does you no good and forces you to use a one thigh position that can be awkward depending upon your shoes.) while still holding my ATM card and withdrawn cash in one hand and thinking, gosh, I sure hope I don't drop this. PLOP. ATM card sinks to the bottom of the toilet bowl.


The good news is that I had yet to use the toilet, so I was able to retrieve the card and give it a thorough soaping down in the sink. I did begin to wonder at this point if bad luck really does come in threes. But hey, it's Friday, it's 5, and I'm out the door.

An hour or so later, evening commute completed and handsome Boom walked, I go into the downstairs bathroom (not the hairbrush toilet) to change into my workout clothes. (Background information: I'm changing in the downstairs bathroom because Boom and I have been living on the main level for about a month now, barring showers, while his injured ACL heals. Being fairly extroverted and having one gay neighbor and one legally blind neighbor, I often change in the dining room -- no blinds -- since I'll be hopping on the elliptical there directly after. But today, I had to go, so I changed in the downstairs bathroom, discarding work clothes on the counter top.) I complete the wardrobe change, stand up, and whilst reaching to flush the toilet, I knock one sock into the swirling water.


So, to sum up:



Bad luck DOES come in threes



and



The universe is clearly telling me that I'm headed for the shitter, one possession at a time.





Tell all your single friends, stay away from the plumbing!




XO, JamieSmitten

Grrrrrr

Bad haircuts aren't cheap. In recent weeks, I have purchased the following in a vain attempt to tame the mane:

brush (flexi bristles -- for smooth blow outs!)
leave-in conditioner (fight that hair dryer damage!)
smoothing serum (Ha! I defied you and your claims!)
creme pomade (great, now my oddly styled hair smells like vanilla cake)
texturizing fiber paste (again, my hair has conquered you and your pitiful hold)
extra hold hair glue (anybody seen "There's Something About Mary?" 'nuff said)

So, roughly $26.

That WAS the total -- until this morning when I found my hairbrush in the toilet.

An 'if it's yellow, let it mellow" toilet, because we are all about the water conservation here in Maison de Smitten.

The interesting news? NOBODY EVEN NOTICED my hair was styled without the aid of a brush. Clearly, we have all given up and are just averting our eyes until it grows.

Tell all your single friends, drop the lid.


XO, JamieSmitten

Working For The Man Can Be Painful

I am not long for the corporate world. I can't survive in an atmosphere that generates these thoughts. These are actual sentences received via email. At a bank. Where there are "principle" associates (strangely lacking in moral fiber).

We are extremely conscious of not wanting tool proliferation.

-- from an email comparing the merits of three different software packages. Try to keep a straight face while reading that. I couldn't. I also couldn't stop from saying out loud, "too late." Because my office is nothing if not full of tools. (Not you, Becky, Connie, and Stephano!)

Please let me know in case of any questions, again this is really important b'coz it will help us arrive at a proper budget estimate.

-- from an email requesting assistance in defining project scope. The italics were the sender's idea of cool. Just in case his teen-a-licious spelling of 'because' didn't make that point. I swear I had a mini heart attack when I read it. Seriously.

Tell ALL your friends, good grammar isn't negotiable.

XO, JamieSmitten

It Is Official

[Note to those who don't live in Richmond -- it is Spring Break for all the local schools this week]



I don't think I've mentioned THE HAIRCUT here, so applaud me for suffering in silence. It has been about 5 weeks since the long shag with bangs was requested

and the misshapen 70s tennis star was received.

(Nothing against Ms. King who was working it back in the day)

But like I said -- minimal whining. I spent a small fortune on product to tame the mess and shouldered on. Hair grows back -- NBD.

But today was truly the last straw.

I work for the man in a large multi-building "campus" with several cafeterias. I met a friend for lunch (Hooray for Stephano -- still willing to be seen with me in public!!) in one of the cafeterias I don't go to frequently. Maybe 3 times a month. Point being, I'm not a regular there.

I am however a pleasant sort of gal, so when I got to the front of the line with my overpriced and underwarmed slice of spinach quiche (OMG -- 70s hair is making me eat 70s food!!), I said, "Happy Wednesday" to the checkout lady.

She looked over at me, gave me a big smile and said, "I didn't expect to see you here this week. I thought you'd be home with the kids!"

It is official. I've left 70s tennis star and proceeded directly to soccer mom.

Shoot.Me.Now.

Tell all your single friends, I am NOT wearing mom jeans to match my hair.

XO, JamieSmitten

It's a Lost Art

I learned last year that valet parking at MCV is a crap shoot. Some days the cars flow quickly around the semi-circle and uniformed personnel actually jog to the parking deck to retrieve your car. On bad days, you can sit for a good ten minutes just waiting to pull INTO the semi-circle because cars are just parked haphazardly all over the place while uniformed personnel take breaks. But over the nine months I used the valet parking service regularly, there was only one day that were were delayed because the attendant who could drive a stick shift was on break.

Today? 20 minute wait while an attendant who can drive a stick shift is located. As the key handler informed me apologetically, "sticks are in a meeting right now." Seriously? I hope they were being given raises for actually being able to do their job 100% of the time, because their unskilled peers were dropping the ball.

Doesn't it seem reasonable that applicants for valet positions should be able to drive all cars? Or is it just me?


Tell all your single friends, I prefer a manual transmission and the world can just get over it.




XO, JamieSmitten

What My Brain Feels Like Today

Now that can't be good, eh? And let me disabuse you (please sir, may I have another!) of the notion that somebody blew my mind. It just went and overloaded on its own. I'm retiring to the couch to watch Lost. Like that will clear my mind. Sigh.


Tell all your single friends, you can OVER think, so keep a spotter handy.


XO, JamieSmitten

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It's not just about the beer. Well, maybe it is!

Tell all your single friends, I lied when I said I was wearing green underwear.


XO, JamieSmitten

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old

It is always nice to hear from an old friend -- even when they are doing the digital age drunk dial -- the 2 a.m. IM. (In his defense, it's earlier on the west coast.) He's definitely one of my boys -- inebriated and reaching out to touch someone.

Perhaps to compensate for it being a very slooowwwww IM exchange (one handed typing and such), I got a companion picture. A fond reminder of good times past. M was my first couple shower, my first naked body painting with food, my first cheat on my boyfriend, my first threesome, and probably one or two other firsts I'm forgetting.

Tell all your single friends, memories can warm the heart and the lower bits as well.

XO, JamieSmitten

If you're not living on the edge, You take up too much room

That master of musical exchange SwissToni has been more than patient awaiting my review of his Shuffleathon cd. You may remember that I signed up for Shuffleathon 2007, sent off my cd (which caused great trauma for the recipient), and reaped karmic reward by not receiving a cd myself. Into the breach strode SwissT (rhymes with Misty, my pet name for the M of ME) and made me a customized cd. I've had it for well over a month now and it has provided great distraction on road trips between my house and my sister's house where less than pleasant things were happening (post about that sadness below).

So forthwith and with heartfelt apologies to SwissT, my review of SwissToni's Shuffleathon CD for JamieSmitten:

1. History Song by The Good, the Bad & the Queen. I had read a review of this album but never got around to picking it up. Paul Simonon -- so tasty -- how can you go wrong? (Disclaimer: I'm a Strummer girl, but I can appreciate the eye candy that Simonon continues to be) Listening to this song makes me feel like I'm an extra in a Robert Rodriguez film, tossing back tequila shots, and dancing slowly around a Mexican cantina filled with desperado vampires. Love the vibe. Must schedule vacation to Mexico.

2. Our Life is not a Movie or a Maybe by Okkervil River. Another band reviewed/mentioned regularly in Rolling Stone that I've never actually heard. Without looking at the songlist, I would have guessed that David Byrne had finally resurrected the Talking Heads and hooray for that. Peppy, quirky, enjoyable. You can't go wrong with a song that incorporates the lyrics "serenely dribbling." Well, I can't.

3. Suburban Knights by Hard Fi. The first band on the cd that is completely unknown to me. Hey, Hey, Hey, Oh, Oh, Oh, Ah, Ah, Ah, Hey, Hey, Hey. Infectious start and nice guitar bursts. I'm not sure why we're rocking the satellites, but there you have it.

4. Books from Boxes by Maximo Park. Never heard of them. Turns out I'm o.k. with that. Not a bad song, but seems to go on past my attention span. (And no, I've not been diagnosed with A.D.D.) About as exciting as unpacking books from boxes, like the guy says.

5. Golden Skans by Klaxons. Heard this one a few times on KEXP (world's best online radio). I'm not sure I get the fuss. Serviceable music for the decade, but feels like background music to me. I will share that one of my co-workers always includes Klaxons songs on his mix cds so the chicks think he is sensitive. (His words, not mine). At least I think it was the Klaxons, but it might have been another one of his sound-alike bands. Sigh. This is my problem with the Klaxons: indistinguishable.

6. Keep the Car Running by Arcade Fire. The first time I listened to this cd was in my car on the road. When this song came on, I scrambled quickly for the cd case which had become intermingled with the dog biscuits, cell phone, jacket, purse, and bag of yogurt covered raisins in the passenger seat. Scrambled, I did, because I couldn't believe that SwissT had included the song On the Dark Side by John Cafferty and Beaver Brown Band (from the Eddie and the Cruisers soundtrack). What? Arcade Fire? It was a full day before I got a chance to check YouTube for a video to determine if I was indeed cracked. Judge for yourself -- I think there are some definite similarities. I like this song, but will never, ever, ever be able to hear it without picturing Michael Pare in his leather jacket. Not sure that was what SwissT intended. [SNAP! YouTube has the Foo Fighters covering Keep the Car Running!]

7. On Call by Kings of Leon. Love these southern rocking hirsute hotties. Hadn't heard this song before, but plan to make my next crush sing it to me in bed. Seriously. There aren't that many lyrics to learn....

8. No I in Threesome by Interpol. Isn't that the truth? Sorry, I digress. I don't own any Interpol, but find this one pleasant enough. Definitely atmospheric. "babe it's time we give something new a try." So true.

9. Two More Years (MSTRKRFT remix) by Bloc Party. Another indie darling from the pages of Rolling Stone that has gone unheard by me. I was concerned by the remix addendum. Neighbor John is a house music aficionado (disco by any other name would thump as loudly, sayeth JamieShakespeare) and when the repetitive thumping beat is escaping his windows, I marvel that it rarely changes from song to song. So, to get back on the recap track, this is the song when I have a sip of coffee, give Boom a biscuit, and check my cell phone for messages. Nice upbeat background music but even after repeated listens, I couldn't tell you one lyric.

10. Fluorescent Adolescent by Arctic Monkeys. LOVE the Monkeys first US release and am now resolved to get off my butt and pick up Favourite Worst Nightmare album posthaste. Certainly has to be one of the best opening lyrics ever: "You used to get it in your fishnets, now you only get it in your night dress." Please let that not be a prophecy.

11. Sheila by Jamie T. Hands down the best revelation on the cd. I have been singing the chorus since the first play. If you go to Jamie T's website, you can hear an excellent cover of A New England. {moment of silence for Kirsty MacColl, gone before her time, who did the best cover of that Billy Bragg tune} I don't know if SwissT included this song because he thought I would like it or because Jamies love other Jamies, but it was a genius move on his part. Well played, sir!

12. Heavyweight Champion of the World by Reverend & the Makers. The Two of SwissT's One-Two punch! Great lyrics (see post title), excellent beat (gym song extraordinaire), and flat out excellent. A glance at their tour list on the band website reveals they haven't been stateside yet. On the plus side, I should definitely be able to swing front row if they do tour, being so ahead of the curve and all.

13. Slow Show by The National. Initial thought was how much the singer sounds like Brad Roberts from the Crash Test Dummies. A little too slow for my taste, but a good song. Apparently The National has been on David Letterman and is touring with R.E.M. this summer. So now I know.

14. When Under Ether by PJ Harvey. Thank goodness I got Polly Jean and not Tori (mix cds invariably have Tori. sigh). I have a few of PJ's albums and she is reliable if you are in an arty dark-ish mood. Not my regular cup of tea, but nice to have in the cupboard for the proper occasion.

15. Behave by Charlotte Hatherley. Never heard of her. Has a bit of a Voice of the Beehive vibe to my mind. YouTube had another one of her songs Bastardo that is kind of fun too. I'm not rushing out to buy the album, but I'm singing along.

16. Loughborough Suicide by The Young Knives. Good segue song from previous track, tune wise. "I will never go down fighting." That's your choice, buddy. Me, I'm a kicker and screamer.

17. Mathematics by Cherry Ghost. Not my favorite subject, nor my favorite song. A little too floaty, but then maybe SwissT was easing me off this musical journey gently. Doesn't make me reach for the skip button, so that's something.

So, in summation, should SwissToni ever decide to send out a monthly (quarterly? annual?) sampler cd to his readers/paying public, I would be first in line. High Fidelity indeed.

Tell all your single friends, try some new music today!


XO, JamieSmitten

I'm Such A Joiner

As a distraction from what's been going on in my life lately (see post below), I submitted a post from my blog (not post below) for possible inclusion in a collection called "You're Not The Only One."

To wit:

We would like you to submit (to us at bloggersforcharity@yahoo.co.uk) a
written piece about something you've been through from any aspect of your life
that you want to share. It can literally be about anything: your relationships,
your past, a road not taken, being a parent, an illness or your regrets etc.
We've called it "You're Not The Only One" to reflect the camaraderie of
blogging.Proceeds will go to WARCHILD

Read more here. The good news is that the date for submissions has been extended to Sunday, March 9. So share the fun and comb your archives for something good for a good cause.

Tell all your single friends to share their words with the world.

XO, JamieSmitten

Requiescat In Pace

My father died on Friday, February 29, at 4:35 p.m. I was there when he took his last violent breaths. We were both ready for his body to give up the struggle. He spoke to me for the last time a few days before and had said several times that he wanted to die, he just needed to know how.


My sister thinks he waited until February 29th to die so the anniversary of his death would only happen every four years.


My father and I didn't always see eye to eye, but I loved him. He loved me too, in his way.

Goodbye, one-legged Dad.

Rainy Days and Fridays Always Get Me Down

Yay. It's both rainy and Friday. Boom has a tear in his ACL, so he is an unhappy camper as long walks, frisbee retrieval, and general jumping mayhem are out of the question for the next two months. So in order to cheer us all up a little bit, here's an adorable puppy from a few days ago at http://www.dogoftheday.com/









His name is Sampson, unsurprisingly.



I'm off to the couch with my Zicam and hopefully, a rerun of House. Is it just me or is Hugh Laurie hot like fire?

Tell all your single friends, not all Friday nights are memorable. Or blogworthy.

XO, JamieSmitten

How We Logophiles Roll

Back in November, I posted about a new online addiction and the need to enunciate when staying "stithy." http://www.freerice.com/ has become even more popular in the past three months. New features (pronunciation!), new words, and more importantly, higher levels have conspired to keep me playing regularly. I admit it -- I keep a FreeRice window open at all times.


I'm at level 52 now with regular descents back to the 45 range as I stumble yet again. I've learned lots of new words:

rodomontade = bluster

anchorite = hermit

nide = nest

I will admit that many of them do not easily fit into daily conversation, but I just know they will come in handy some day.

So if I ask you to come enjoy a dip in a cenote, better bring your passport along with your snorkel.

Tell all your single friends, sometimes you just need another word for the watery sinkholes found in Mexico!!

XO, JamieSmitten

Not Quite What I Was Saying

I keep stumbling across reviews of a newly published book called Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure.

Some examples:

Nora Ephron: Secret of life: marry an Italian

Dave Eggers: Fifteen years since last professional haircut

Joyce Carol Oates: Revenge is living well, without you

Joan Rivers: Liars, hysterectomy didn't improve sex life!

How would I sum up my life in six words? Read on:


Came, saw, laughed, loved, understood, went (my first attempt)

Object is not closer than appears (how existential!)

Tell all your single friends: believe (multiple options here, really)

Everyone died before I was ready (not too cheery, but bang on the money)

Kissed many, loved few, married none (well, not recently anyway)

Stopped thinking what if and lived (you go Smitten! no seriously -- MOVE!)

Wanted: man not threatened by dog (that could/would/should change to Found: )


So, all you creative people (and those who stop by here occasionally), what are YOUR six word memoirs?


Tell all your single friends, brevity counts!



XO, JamieSmitten

I Don't Just Work For YOU, People!

I work for others across the pond! O.K. It wasn't really hard work, but I didn't blog here because I blogged there.

Tell all your single friends, I'm fucking Matt Damon.

XO, JamieSmitten

Meet My Nemesis

Only 3 more months of availability, thank goodness!

I Slack, Therefore I Am Jamie

I have done my taxes, made several trips to Virginia Beach, monitored Boom's butt, watched 1/2 of Dark Angel, Season 2, and begun spring cleaning way early.

But I have not blogged.

Sorry. So enjoy a picture of Boom wearing a dinner napkin during the last girls drink party. With my compliments and his.

Tell all your single friends, drinking with the ladies can lead to surprising headwear.

XO, JamieSmitten

Oy and Vey

Into every life some rain must fall -- but seriously, enough already!

My poor Boom has had some medical issues that have not been pleasant for him, the couch, or the vet. Another vet trip this morning has hopefully set him on the path to recovery (I'll spare you the details since the words 'anal' and 'fill' are prominent in the description).

I was awakened at 4 a.m. by some gosh awful pain under my left rib cage. After spending a good ten minutes waiting for my left arm to go numb and thinking about what I would leave in the note to my neighbor about Boom care when I drove myself to the hospital, I decided the culprit might be gas. I made a completely healthy and yummy dinner with chick peas, tomatoes, coriander seed, and turmeric, and had it on top of a wild rice/lentil pilaf. Tasty, fiberrific, and filling. Filling like at a gas station apparently. I'm seriously contemplating buying Bean-o.

My brother in law's car was stolen. Not my rain shower, but I still feel the dampness.

On Friday I have an "all hands" meeting at work. Now those of you outside the corporate world might think, "Hey! I don't mind some hands! I'll grab a piece of that!" But sadly, there is nothing touchy/feely about it. We sit, we watch innumerable slides, we nod (off), and then when we get back to our desks we are required to respond to an anonymous survey about the "all hands" meeting. I find it unbelievably hard not to be truthful in these surveys. Does anyone have a nice way to say "the meeting sucked ass?"


Tell all your single friends, better keep that umbrella handy.



XO, JamieSmitten

One More Year to Go.....

Dear sweet baby Jesus it is 10:00 p.m. and that idiot is STILL TALKING.

How could you people seriously vote him in for 8 years? You should be ashamed.

Too Creative for Words

No, not me -- I'm talking about Phil Hansen of Goodbye Art.


I can't remember how I stumbled on to his website, but I check it now and again to see what this incredibly creative person is doing.

Create a picture of Britney using chewed food?

Paint little paintings on top of other paintings on top of his stomach?

Make a cheese log (with a real log) for Christmas?

Carve an incredible portrait using just snow and a backlight?

Check it out -- there is VIDEO!

I love that Phil's art is fleeting. He creates and then he tears it down to make room for the next project. There is some life parallel here that I can't quite put my finger on.


Tell all your single friends to enjoy the beauty of the moment, because if they are lucky, there is another, different beautiful moment coming.


XO, JamieSmitten

Shuffleathon 2007 -- Wait, When?

Exactly. Shuffleathon 2007 took place last year. However, my experience was not as expected when I first signed up to participate. [For those who don't feel like backtracking to that link, I agreed to make a cd and send it off and then I would receive a cd compiled by a stranger. I was looking forward to going on a Blind Listen.]

So I deliberated, read through the blog of my assigned recipient, made cover art, and finally, thankfully, sent off my cd. It was received, but no review appeared, week after week. Finally, recipient Suburban Hen 'fessed up. She had listened to my cd and to her horror, found that all but one song reminded her of her ex-husband. [Clearly, her ex-husband has excellent musical taste. But that's neither here nor there.] I absolved her of her duty to review the cd and she probably tossed it in the nearest garbage can. Possibly as karmic payback for stirring up SH's memories of love gone wrong, I never received my cd. Shuffleathon steward SwissToni is most graciously stepping up to the plate and sending me something soon.

But in the meantime, I thought I'd tell you about MY cd. Since SH is from Australia, but currently living in the UK, I decided to stick to American bands. That really didn't narrow it down much, so I decided to stick to bands that I had seen in concert. Then, I just picked songs I love. Some of the artists have appeared on other Shuffleathon cds (and at least one specific track), but most are probably just popular with me and some guy in Australia. Not really a review, more of an explanation of why these songs made it on the cd.

Disclaimer: May remind you of your ex

1. Seven Days by Cracker: One of my favorite bands. Luckily, living in Richmond allows me to see them in concert frequently. Although I did drive to Phoenix from Las Vegas to see them once (Alice Cooper's Town, Phoenix). It's a good opening song because it establishes that you are about to listen to an upbeat cd. Plus how can you top "there ain't nothing that you got/ that we don't need/ did I say that right?" And truly, I am waiting for the real thing.


2. Locket Love by The Ramones: Another one of my favorite bands. I saw them in concert three times and the second time (RPM, Toronto) was definitely when I lost hearing in my right ear. I stood against the barrier in front of a HUGE stack of speakers for the whole show and Dee Dee tossed me a guitar pick at the end. I think that was a decent trade for some hearing. I love all Ramones songs, but this one reminds me of my high school boyfriend who couldn't afford to buy me a locket, so he drew one for me instead.


3. What Did Love Ever Do To You? by Hank Williams III: Hank3 is amazing in concert. He performs his country songs in the first 2 sets, then comes back out with his punk/metal/psychobilly band AssJack and blows the roof off (Alley Katz, Richmond). This isn't my top favorite HW3 song, but since I don't know the Hen, I thought it best not to select one of his drinking/drugging songs. But this one is good too.


4. Wave of Mutilation by Pixies: This is the track that appeared on another Shuffleathon cd. I saw the Pixies tour last year (Constant Convocation Center, Norfolk) and was amazed how flawless they sounded. I've seen Frank Black solo and love The Catholics cds, but the Pixies together are incredible. One of the few songs on the cd where the lyrics don't mean anything in particular to me.


5. Every Monday by Marvelous3: Marvelous3 opening for Eve6 (some small club in Norfolk) was a crazy evening: autograph/kiss from Slug, nail polish discussion with Butch (we both wore Blue Metal), too many shots of Jägermeister, and some decorous upchucking out the window of the car as we sped home along the highway. More importantly, I got to hear this song live. "I shed 5 bitter tears into 5 bitter beers/ looked at my watch and said 'Where have the years gone?'" A good song for maudlin moments.


6. Miles Away by Goldfinger: I love me some ska -- I don't even care which wave. I danced my ass off when I saw Goldfinger in concert (Flood Zone, Richmond) and then we had a beer with the bass player after the show. He was weird, but the music was infectious fun. "How blind can I be?/ So when can I see you?/ Will it ever be?/ And how deep is my love?" I played this song a LOT while lusting after someone I could never have. Still makes me wistful -- in a loud way.


7. Baby I'm A Star by Prince: I still have the flowers that fell from the ceiling when Prince sang Purple Rain as his finale (Maple Leaf Gardens, Toronto). The music, the innuendo, the sheer teeny tiny force that was Prince owning that stage, I'll never forget it. And quite frankly, I AM a star. I play this when I need to remind myself of that fact. "Take a picture, sweetie/ I ain't got time to wait."


8. Superhero Girl by Eve6: I wish I had been signed to a record company and then told to finish high school between albums. Sigh. Way more pop than most of my favorite bands, but an automatic choice for road trips. This particular song because, yes, I am in fact, "stupidly sarcastic."


9. Celebrity Skin by Hole: I love the train wreck that is Courtney Love. I saw her at a multi-band festival (RFK Stadium, D.C.) and she rocked me. Live Through This is a great album, but I selected Celebrity Skin because I don't think it gets played enough. "You want a part of me/ Well I'm not selling cheap."


10. Crush With Eyeliner by R.E.M.: I didn't see REM until the Monster tour (Capital Centre?, Landover) which ended up being my favorite album mostly because of this song. Seemed a natural segue after Courtney, since it was rumored that Michael Stipe wrote this about her. Obviously included here because not many songs admit "I am smitten."


11. She's A Rebel by Green Day: Their tour in support of American Idiot was truly powerful -- must have something to do with teeny tiny front men (Constant Convocation. Norfolk). Call them derivative or sellouts, they still play a good 2 minute song.


12. Captain Kelly's Kitchen by Dropkick Murphys: I saw DM in October (Toad's Place, Richmond) and was right up front with my fellow music lovers, elbows up in defense. You don't have to be from Boston, you just have to love a good jig.


13. Old Friend by Rancid: Minor cheat here -- I haven't seen Rancid live, but I have seen the Transplants (Patriot Center, Fairfax) and again, they kick ass. "Good morning heartache. You're like an old friend come to seem me again." Indeed. But who can lament lost love when you are dancing like a fool. Had I made this tape for someone I actually knew, I would likely have selected Tall Cans In The Air by the Transplants -- and let the fuck you's fall where they might.


14. Falling To Pieces by Faith No More: I have been wracking my brain trying to remember who opened for FNM when I saw them (Capital Centre, Landover), but am way too lazy to go downstairs and look for the box with the ticket stubs from decades past. Epic still gets played on the radio, but I haven't heard this one in ages. "Droplets of yes and no/In an ocean of maybe." Story of my life.


15. The One by Foo Fighters: Not on an FF album, I actually purchased the soundtrack to that crappy movie Orange County in order to have this song immediately after hearing it on the radio. I haven't heard this song live (Patriot Center, Fairfax), but it is one of my favorites and doesn't get any radio play. Reminds me of my last alcoholic and the impossibility of our relationship. "Something never meant to be/ Everything you meant to me/ Wake me when this punishment is done/ Those who try and get away/ From the one who gets away/ Someone's always someone else's one." Maybe you had to be there, but that pretty much sums up me and Ron.

In retrospect, most of these songs remind me of an ex or someone who would have been an ex if I had had my way. Poor Suburban Hen, I doomed her from the start.

Tell All Your Single Friends to "play me that song that makes it so tough, another nail in my heart"

XO, JamieSmitten

Am I The Only One

who sees those cranberry juice commercials with the two guys standing in the cranberry bog and wishes she grew cranberries for a living? It just looks so cheerful. As long as there aren't any fish in there. That would be bad.



Memo to self: explore cranberry careers.

Tell all your single friends, 2008 is the year of the new career!!

XO, JamieSmitten

What I Learned in 2007 (in no particular order)

• Dance. Somebody has to and it might as well be you.

• It doesn't matter how big the vet bill is. Boom is worth it.

• I couldn't space my blog entries evenly if my life depended upon it.

• Dizzy is not fun.
  


• I can't be responsible for it all. Step back, sit down, and let somebody else deal.

• Speeding is expensive. I should do it more infrequently and cautiously.

• Tim Gunn might be right. In more instances, I should try to "make it work."

• Sleep is important.

• There are some wonderfully unique people blogging -- Thanks, Wombat, Crankster, Firefly, Camel, Ahamos, Cygirl, March to the Sea, Nat Dickinson, Phil Hansen.

• Cafe Bustelo makes work more tolerable.

• Never buy anything from an adult toy party that you didn't actually see. Trust me, they CAN be too big. And too purple.




• 15 minutes on the elliptical will not kill me. Even worse news -- 48 minutes on the elliptical won't kill me.




• The 17th Street Farmer's Market ROCKS on Saturday morning. Come back summer!




• $10 earrings can make me smile for years.




• I enjoy writing, even if nobody reads it.




• Don't drink 6 beers, 1 shot of tequila, and 2 margarita pints, even if you are walking home. (If you do, be prepared to wake up on the couch, half-dressed, and liberally coated with sick.)



• I am not too old for all day music festivals.




• I have wonderful friends and I should tell them that more often.




• I get blushes (blog crushes) way, way, way too easily.




• Some people will just never understand me. Try not to work for these people.



• Some people will get me instantly. Stay close to these people.



• It ain't over even when the door is shut, the blinds are pulled, and the drinks are poured. Enjoy the peace while you have it.

• A good therapist is invaluable. Thanks, CT!

• A little optimism is o.k. 2008 is going to be THE YEAR.

Tell all your single friends, 365 more days of potential EVERYTHING await!

XO, JamieSmitten

Merry Christmas to All!

Things I Adore, Things I Abhor

Wombat reminded me that I haven't done this post in awhile. Not that she wanted to read it, she just wanted to fancy it up and sell it over on her blog. Good on her.

5 Things I Adore:

• Maraschino cherries. Left over from the infamous Oh Henry! bars I made for work. Adding a whole new dimension to the crappy Absolut New Orleans.


• Christmas picture cards (or Christmas cards with pictures). Why do we only share once a year? Warning! Boom is thinking about sending out a summer picture. He's all about busting up tradition.


• Pete McCarthy. Author of McCarthy's Bar and The Road to McCarthy. If you can't travel, hitch a ride with Pete. The search for his Irishness within his English self reminds me of my Canadian/American issues and he is funny.


• Having 2 vacation days left. I will work no more Mondays until 2008. The Man can suck it.


• Friends who listen. Thanks for listening to me for the past 5 days. You ALL know who you are.

5 Things I Abhor:

• Being clumsy. Liquids are not safe around me. And my 2007 Christmas Card list is now lost to the ages.


• Being dizzy. Only 3 weeks to go before I see the physical therapist. Please goddess let her fix me on the 11th. I'm over it.


• Being guilty. So I'm not going to be guilty any more. I'm taking care of me first. The rest of you can get in line and fill out the appropriate forms. In triplicate.


• Being slack. That resume isn't going to update itself, unfortunately. Can't get away from The Man without it. Word.


• Being alone. The next guy is going to feel like a stud because I'll be zero to O in under a minute. Guaranteed. No need to form a line, just knock.

Let's face it, even if the maraschino cherries are floating in some serious alcohol, they aren't going to beat the long dry spell. Abhor wins.

Tell all your single friends, dizzy, clumsy, and EASY.

XO, JamieSmitten

Unbelievable

I can't quite wrap my head around it, so I don't expect any of you to manage it. Especially speaking in such oblique terms. But remember back when JamieSmitten found some peace and started smiling again right about here?

Well somebody should have told JamieSmitten to enjoy the feeling while it lasted. Because apparently, the ride for which I did not purchase a ticket but spins me around anyway has started up again.

Give me strength.

And therein lies the rub for the non-believer. I know that finding the strength is all up to me. Although Zeus with a few well placed lightning bolts wouldn't be rejected.

I refer to this Zeus

Not the four-legged one that lives on the other side of the fence, although that Zeus has his charms too.

Tell all your single friends, rough weather ahead.

XO, JamieSmitten

Your Guess Is As Good As Mine

I do believe I previously stated herein that I would not inflict my poetry on you, the unsuspecting blog public. Yes, I did -- right here. So abandon ship, save yourselves, I've gone and done it. Perhaps a reaction to the soul-deadening effect of working for the Man or to having to explain what 'practicable' and 'deleterious' mean to people who make twice my salary, this just had to come out. I'm not totally satisfied, but self-editing for me is the delete button. So forthwith and forsooth, my offering.

Quite Possible (or maybe My Times)

a poem by J. Smitten

It is quite possible that I will

when all is said and done, be still

outwardly

while raging inside at the sheer

lunacy

of my times

(this is not the times owned by the masses which are lamented

Oh the Times!

whether they be a-changin' or not

no, not those times at all)

MY times which ought be loud

with laughter and loving, yet crowd

silently

forward brimming with the sharp

focus

of the aware

(my times are not delivered to your doorstep

Nor should they be!

for they don't delight or quite frankly show

that I'm even right)

So fair warning to him

listening raptly or not, no whim

resolutely

tilting against the Sisyphean

task

of my times

Tell all your single friends, sometimes you just have to let it all hang out.

XO, JamieSmitten

Cooking with Gas (Literally and Figuratively)

Ah the holiday season. Not enough money and too many pot luck lunches. For tomorrow's fete, I was asked to bring desert. No, not a typo on my part. I flirted with the idea of bringing some sables au citron. That is French for lemon cookies, but sable also means sand. Yep, I geek out in French sometimes.

But then I dug out the recipe box and the Better Homes and Gardens and made some choices.

From Better Homes, I chose the Blonde Brownie recipe and made it more exciting with the addition of chocolate chunks.

From Grammy's recipe box, I chose the Oh Henry recipe. The resulting square bears no resemblance whatsoever to the Oh Henry chocolate bar. Grammy said there was another candy bar called Oh Henry and this recipe tasted just like THAT Oh Henry bar. But I've never seen one. In any case, it is yummy and different, containing graham crackers, coconut, maraschino cherries, and buttercream frosting.

Here is what you are missing if you aren't attending the pot luck tomorrow:

Good thing I explained the Oh Henry bar, eh? Here's a shot of the Blondies too -- on my souvenir plate from the bistro at the Paris casino in Vegas. (If you go, order the moules et frites.)

It looks like I burnt the counter, but I didn't.

That is cooking with gas literally, where is the cooking with gas figuratively? Read on.

My baking done, the kitchen cleaned, the Boom bathed (Al fresco! 70 degrees in December!), I sat down to catch up with my blog boys. Wandering over to the site of my unrequited Blush Aeleope, I found him writing up a storm as usual. That boy is nothing if not prolific. He even entered a contest -- 250 words or less -- to be inspired by this picture:

For details and to enter (deadline is 12/14 -- hurry!) check out An Innocent A-Blog here. I like these writing challenges -- convey your thought and get out quickly. Heck -- I wouldn't be blogging here if it weren't for a similar contest. So I looked at that picture and I started cooking, figuratively speaking.

Here is my entry to the Weirdly contest:

Everyone remembers before. "You should have seen it. Why it was the pride of the county! Folks came just to walk down Main Street and take their picture in front of the falls." Why that town was nothing short of paradise, to hear them tell it. That's how it got its name anyway. Eden Falls, in case I forgot to say.

When they talk about after, they always shake their heads and lower their voices, like somebody died. Some families were just gone. Just like that. My granddaddy says if he had skipped school like he planned, he'd be deader than a doornail and missing to boot. He always says that when I miss the school bus. Sometimes if I ask him just right, he'll drive me over to see where Eden Falls used to be. There's no more Main Street, that's for sure. The government men that came after said only a fool would build that town back up. Just a matter of time before those falls did what they done before.

But you know what? Those falls never have done nothing. I've lived here my whole life and all I see is a waterfall and a field and bunch of ugly old trees. Joe's granny says that each of those trees is the soul of an innocent that got washed away when the falls broke through and came down Main Street. But I don't think that's right. Those trees would be pretty if they were.

It came out rather quickly -- like the falls.

Tell all your single friends, JamieSmitten can feed your body and mind, if you just let her.

XO, JamieSmitten

What The World Needs Now

...is TWO great events on two consecutive nights! You have NO idea how rare that is in Richmond. This is not NYC. But it does happen and I took full advantage.

Saturday night was Cracker at Toad's Place. I love, love, love Cracker. I know every song, I worship every guitar lick, I am a fan. Even having just seem them a few months ago at a much smaller venue, it was instant bliss. Two full hour sets and another 1/2 hour encore. I wish you'd been there. Standing behind me, of course.

In typical Richmond fashion, I ran into the estranged wife of my ex-roommate's brother. (She says hi.) I also saw a lot of PBR tall boys being consumed. Again, typical Richmond fashion.

Sunday night was the PostSecret/Found charity tour. If you don't already visit PostSecret every Sunday to read the new secrets, I highly recommend you do. Found Magazine keeps me looking around when Boom and I go for a walk, hoping to find the perfect note to send in. I bought founder Davy Rothbart's book, The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas. It is a great read so far and there was something oddly hot about him in person. Despite the gangsta chains. And for some reason, there was also a sword swallower from North Carolina named Brett Loudermilk. Definitely, an unexpected Sunday night occurrence, but most enjoyable. And that Davy was hot.

So that's why I've been silent for a few days. I'm full of good times and trying to make them last.

I've Got (Incredibly Artistic) Mail!

Crankster had a post recently about an artist who was offering his art on postcards to those who saw the drawing on his site and emailed him. His name is Nat Dickinson and you can find him at Nat Dickinson Doing Art. In the case of more than one art collector, Nat rolls a die and sends it to the lucky winner.


I did not win Priceless Postcard #13 -- a rendition of coconut cake, so perfect for me -- but I was victorious with Priceless Postcard #20. It arrived in the mail yesterday:

They are tomatillos and so incredibly detailed that if I hadn't known Nat created the postcard himself, I would SWEAR it was printed. I'm going to purchase a frame for it today. You can see all the Priceless Postcards here.

So -- head on over to Nat's website and look around -- there are beautiful paintings under the Recent Work link. If he's offering a postcard, do yourself a favor and enter the drawing.

A Case of "that annoying song that loops endlessly on the slowest ride at Disney World"*

*I'd say the title, but then the damn song would be stuck in my head for days. You'll get it, if you haven't already.

It turns out that my manager's wife and I graduated from high school together. I vaguely remember her after looking at the senior yearbook. Lest you think I'm incredibly forgetful, there were over 500 graduates in that class -- and I definitely didn't know everyone. Also, lest you think I didn't own tweezers, Brooke Shields-style eyebrows were quite acceptable at that time.

But it is strange that we didn't figure this out before, as my manager and I spend about 50% of the work week together and have talked about teen years, etc. Even stranger -- we both attended the reunion held 3 years ago. We didn't work together then, but we were both there.

Which got me to thinking. How many places have I been at the same time as a future acquaintance? If I had zigged instead of zagged, would I have met that person then and not later? Was I standing behind my manager when we picked up nametags?

I know what you are thinking -- the whole "butterfly flaps its wings and causes a chain of events leading to a tsunami on the other side of the world" -- this isn't a new thought. But it does make me feel incredibly pressured to memorize faces when I'm out and about. So maybe when I do meet someone in the future, the déjà vu feeling will be quickly explained away.

Serendipity. Fate. Coincidence. I'll take them all.

Tell All Your Single Friends, it's a world of laughter - HA! Now you have to hum it too!



XO, JamieSmitten

Francophile, c'est moi!

In the past week I have watched Paris, Je T'aime and La Vie En Rose. They were both excellent films saturated with l'esprit de Paris. I highly recommend them.

I'm going back there some day.

Maybe that should be my new motivation for going to work every day when clearly, I have lost that loving feeling. The Man lost his loving feeling for me first, if he ever really cared. Each pointless meeting earns me an increment of my paycheck which properly cultivated (no more expensive organic lavender shampoo even though it makes my hair luxuriously soft and the lack of parabens will keep me from developing any number of diseases) could be transformed into a ticket to Paris.

Bon. Maintenant, il faut pratiquer le français pour être prêt.

I'd like to thank the academy.....

I may have mentioned before that Crankster is my Brother from Another Mother. He grew up in No Va, he has strong feelings about Q-Tips, he knows and likes Richard Brautigan, for heck's sake. He's just all that and a mug of Nescafe Cafe con Leche (ask him, I drink the real thing).

So, in addition to brightening my every day (thank you NaBloPoMo), he bestows awards! In fact, he's downright gift-y this season. Here are the three awards he has bestowed upon yours truly:

Crankster said: "I nominate the following (alphabetically organized)
five bloggers for the "Thinking Blogger Award," and thank them deeply for giving
me another viewpoint: Jamiesmitten, of Tell All Your Single Friends, tends toward
the sort of random, playful thoughtfulness that so often leads to great ideas
and sparks of genius."

I own random and playful and I strive mightily for sparks of genius. I appreciate the vote of confidence.

Crankster said: "When I was coming up with Jamiesmitten's pajamas, I
cheated a little: I looked at the Halloween pictures on her blog. Her
pajamas are relaxed, playful, and come with a pair of ears."

Again with the playful. Clearly, Crankster has spies in Richmond. And for the record, if I wore pajamas, I would definitely be rocking the ears -- just like Josie and the Pussycats (cartoon version, please, not that movie).

Crankster said: "As I may have pointed out once or
twice, Jamiesmitten is a little random, a little silly, and a lot incisive.
Somewhere in this apparent contradiction, she stakes out a very brave and very
feminine space."

Random, oh so random. And brave is my hope. I think I got feminine for the blue toenails.




So it is with gratitude and sibling affection, that I post my awards over on the side bar. I'm definitely planning on regifting soon. After I spend some time thinking about all of YOU in pajamas.




Tell All Your Single Friends, blog awards are what the cool kids are giving.




XO, JamieSmitten

Happy Birthday to Me (and to you!)

Well THAT year crawled by painfully -- here's to 41!! Raise a glass tonight -- and we'll all be drinking together.

I'll be at home this evening with a recuperating Boom. He had surgery on his second aural hematoma this morning. Not the best way for a highly attached dog and his mum to spend the day. Pre-surgery picture below -- poor boy's ear was swollen up to empanadilla size by end of vacation.



Once you finish your birthday toast to me, head on over to http://www.freerice.com/ and show off your logophile tendencies for a good cause. According to the article I read, very few people make it past level 48 (of 50). I have made it to 48 and will make it to 50 if it takes all year. Caution: If you get to the word "stithy" and decide to ask for help, be sure to enunciate. My mum's answer of "well dear, that's a hard on" was well intentioned, but off the mark.

Today (and every day), Cracker says it best:

I'm feeling thankful
for the small things, today
I'm feeling thankful
for the small things, today
Happy, Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
and to you



Tell All Your Single Friends, JamieSmitten is older, if not necessarily wiser!



XO, JamieSmitten